Flu

Chapter 81

Kyle Simmons stares across the table at the detectives facing him. Two of them questioned him yesterday. He hasn't seen the one in the middle before and hopes that she's as clueless as she is hot. She dashes his hopes when she opens her mouth.

"Well, Kyle, get your kicks contributing to the delinquency of minors? I'll bet you thought you had a nice little racket going, sending those kids after the loot. Too bad, you didn't choose your patsies better. From what I've seen in your file, your name was practically the first thing out of Beth McCullough's mouth. That was even before she was so scared she lost her lunch. We know what Beth could tell us, but she was just one of your minions. We've arrested ten of them, and as the streets are cleared, we'll have a lot less trouble rounding up the rest. None of those kids wants to spend their time in juvie, and their parents don't want them there either. By the time the lawyers finish pleading for sympathy for the poor lost lambs, you'll be painted as a Svengali, trapping helpless innocents under your spell."

Kate gestures at the other detectives. "Your only chance is if we talk sweet to whatever A.D.A draws your case. And the only way any of us would do that is if you tell us the truth. One little lie, anything, and the deal's off."

A man in the last decade's suit taps on the table with a cheap pen. "Detective Beckett, I've advised my client to avail himself of his Fifth Amendment rights and remain silent. Mr. Simmons was not in possession of any stolen goods. You have no evidence, other than the word of felonious teenagers, that he was involved in any robberies. If the District Attorney's office is foolish enough to prefer charges, I'd expect a rapid dismissal."

Smiling, Kate silently opens a black leather folder in front of her and studies a page. She runs her finger over the lines in the document until Kyle squirms in his seat, and she sees a single bead of sweat on his lawyer's forehead. "It seems that Beth McCullough told the arresting officers that a Kyle informed her that the resident of the apartment she was attempting to rob, left with only one suitcase. Do you know how he would have known that counselor? Never mind, I can tell you. Mr. Simmons was the car service driver who took that tenant, Mona Elson, to JFK before it closed down. Mr. Simmons also took the residents of every other home that young skiers attempted to burgle, to an airport, bus, or train station within a day of the storm hitting New York. Combining that with Beth's testimony and that of the other teens he drew into his conspiracy, we'll have a case that no judge would dismiss. Neither would a jury." Kate waves again at the other detectives. "We're the only thing close to a chance he's got, and he's going to have to work very hard to make us feel friendly. We'll give you a few minutes to confer with your client." Kate leads her companions out of the room.

Rick applauds as he leaves the one-way mirror in Observation to join his wife. "That was stupendous! Simmons is going to spill his guts any minute."

Kate presses a hand to her abdomen. "Bad choice of words."

"Still not feeling right? No one could tell from your performance in there, but I heard you retching in the bathroom this morning. Maybe you should see health services or at least talk to Lanie."

"Simmons hasn't confessed yet, and I'm not going anywhere until he does," Kate declares. "You saw. In that room, I'm fine. I'm going to get this done. I'll see Lanie later. I want to talk to her anyway. The way she's been glowing lately, something's going on with her. I'm going to find out what it is."

Rick grins appreciatively. "Two interrogations in one day. That's the Baracuda Beckett I know and love."

Eli surveys the 20 inches of snow still covering Sheep Meadow. "I'm amazed that you got a day off."

"With the streets mostly clear, the chief disbanded our ski patrol, and the department was happy to give me comp time instead of paying overtime," Lana explains. "Cleaning up from the storm is expensive enough without spending more than they have to on cops. But how about you? You still have the Heitner case going, don't you? And are you going to nail the jerk who sent out those kids to steal?"

"I'm still working on the Heitner case, but the lab is finishing up analyzing some of the evidence, and CSU has been running a skeleton crew. I'll be going forward with the prosecution soon. I don't know about the other case. The department hasn't passed it on to the D.A.'s office yet. But it's great to be able to grab some time with you now. So, what am I supposed to do now?"

Lana points to the skis beside him. "You could start by putting those on."

Simmons curls his fingers around the bottle of water he requested as if it's a magic potion. His lawyer couldn't have been clearer. He's screwed. The best he can do is try to get the detectives' sympathy, and right now, they don't look very sympathetic. He'll run his con, telling some version of the sob stories he laid on some of the kids, especially the girls. After that, he'll have to hope for the best.

So if you scored bigtime today, Kate, why are you and Castle here instead of going off and sharing a bottle of Champagne or that red wine you like so much?" Lanie demands.

"Because I think you scored big, too," Kate retorts. "Your head's been in the clouds for at least a couple of days, not what I would have expected after you worked on what Frees and Heitner put in the ground. It's got to be a guy. Who?"

"If I tell you that," Lanie responds, "you have to tell me why you're really here. I'm a doctor, Kate. I can see when someone looks shaky, and with you, I could tell across the room."

Rick fixes Kate in his gaze. "If you don't tell her, I will."

"I asked first," Kate insists.

Lanie rolls her eyes. "Fine! It's Lorne Faulkner. After all the years we've known each other with nothing happening, we finally clicked. It was amazing. But no more details until you're straight with me. Now give, Kate."

"It's no big deal. I have a queasy stomach. I don't have a fever or anything."

"She threw up," Rick adds.

"Anything else?" Lanie asks.

"No," Kate claims.

"Yes!" Rick argues. "She could barely get up this morning, and she didn't want coffee. When doesn't Kate want coffee?"

Lanie's head bobs from side to side. "Kate, are you late?"

"A little."

"How little?"

"A couple of weeks."

Lanie wraps her arms around her friend. "I'll run a test to be sure, but I don't think you're sick. I think you're pregnant. And I bet writer boy thinks so too."

Under Kate's glare, Rick looks down at his feet. "Hey, I was there when Meredith was expecting Alexis. I recognized the signs, but you've always insisted that you wanted to wait, so I didn't want to say anything until we knew for sure. And whatever test Lanie can do will be better than what you can get in the drugstore." He turns to the M.E. "Won't it?"

"Count on it. If I tell you Kate's expecting, she's expecting. So let's get to it."